


Good Girl

by JohnlockAndATardis



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Kink, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, PWP, Praise Kink, Seriously this is 2k worth of smut and it is glorious, Smut, good girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 05:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18404030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnlockAndATardis/pseuds/JohnlockAndATardis
Summary: Laura Hollis still feels the nightmares of the world that they left. But in here, with Carmilla, all of that can go away. She feels safe, warm, wanted, loved. All with two words."Good girl."-A.K.A. my friend and I were talking about fics this afternoon and I couldn't find anything to my taste, so have some good smut instead.





	Good Girl

"Good girl." 

 

The words echo somewhere in the unknown. Without her eyes, depth is a figment of another world, a world which she cannot see, cannot yet touch. But she can hear it - the soft melody of her own breath, legato, quiet sighs that escape her parted lips, lips her tongue wets as though it might somehow be preferable to the other's press, her kiss. She can smell her own want rising up into the air, mingling with her lover's perfume, something spicy and old, like well-aged rum. Timeless. Her legs join in the melody, shifting upon the sheets, seeking... something. Touch, a hand gliding up that expanse of warm, supple vanilla flesh to find the petals, aching to open- 

 

A whimper departs her, and is followed by a chuckle from that unknown, but closer now. She does not jump to hear it, but sinks further into the soft sheets below her body, a sigh of contentment easing its way from her throat as a hand comes to her hair. The fingers work tenderly through the tendrils, circumscribe the perimeter of her face, down her delicate neck. They trace her collarbones, dipping down into the space between them and Laura gasps, her back arching up, off of the bed. The chuckle grows, filled with warmth and pure affection. There is the sound of movement, the feeling of the bed dipping as the weight upon it is shifted. Slowly, she feels her lover hovering overtop of her, feels the heat of her breath inches away from her own hot, aching flesh. 

 

"Were you thinking of something?" her lover whispers, the mirth dripping out of her mouth like honey Laura would delight in tracing back to the source. She nods fervently, this is her confession, no place for hiding here when body and soul are both barred. Carmilla's fingers slip further down, replacing the ghostly visage of her breath. They pass over the soft, yet strong pathway of her navel, hand pausing with the palm pressed to the little dip in her stomach. The fingers spiderweb slowly over her body, and then there is a wet, warm heat against her inner thigh. Laura cries out, her head falling back against the bed which her heels press deep into. Even this brief contact makes her most intimate muscles contract with delightful anticipation, and she feels the way that her warmth blossoms deep inside of her body, spilling out eagerly. 

 

She is not the only one who makes such observations. Carmilla's hand slips down her stomach, traces the delicate flesh pulled over Laura's soft curves, the gentle, rising peak of her hips. Her lips follow these explorations, leaving the flags of her country first in soft kisses, then in nips and suckling respites which draw the breath from Laura's body. Always down, agonizingly slow, so much so that she feels certain she will crumble before those lips ever reach the place of her most pressing desire. 

 

They pass further still. They claim ownership of her body, pressing deep bruises into the flesh of her thighs, a reminder that she belongs to someone, that she is owned by Carmilla and no other may have her. The lips make symmetry out of her body, and though she cannot see it Laura knows these blossoming violets are mirror images. A sudden breath against her desire, nothing but the presence of the other woman's lips where they hover. She can feel Carmilla's smirk even if it does not quite press against the flesh. 

 

"Go on," Carmilla teases. "What were you thinking of, cutie?" 

 

Laura's face flushes bright red, there are so many things she was thinking of, things that she would like for the other to do, places those lips could travel, ecstasies that she could feel. All things she wants, but she cannot find the voice to say them. She shakes her head, turns it to the side. 

 

Carmilla tuts. Her breath is still a presence there, strong hands grip Laura's legs and tug them apart, one gliding up her leg. A slender finger dips into the joint where her thigh meets her pelvis, closer still, dipping into the wetness that has pooled between her but never, never near enough to touch her the way that she wants. Laura groans, strains against the fabric that holds her wrists in placce, that prevents her from taking her pleasure herself. Not that she would. Not when that highest of praises awaits her. 

 

"Hm," Carmilla murmurs, laying a kiss to the back of Laura's knee as she lifts her leg. Her voice vibrates against the flesh, already over-sensitized and Laura squirms with it, her fingers clawing into the bindings, her wanting only mounting. "Well if you won't tell me, I guess I'll have to keep on playing with you, pet." Her lips mark the line of her leg, a most unimaginable and delightful torture as they travel so far from the place which she wants most to have touched, dipping down to lay sweet kisses at the divot of her ankle. "Would you like that?" Carmilla murmurs, returning her way back upwards. "If I kept you here, bound, mine to play with?" 

 

The idea is so tempting that Laura finds herself nodding to the suggestion without thinking.  _Yes,_ her mind screams, but also,  _no!_ Her body is aflame, the word slipping out of her mouth. Carmilla laughs. 

 

"Yes and no?" she says, lazily working circles against Laura's skin, ghosting just below her breast now. "My, my, pet, someone certainly is confused. Tell me, what do you want?" 

 

The hand retracts and Laura cries out at the loss that becomes her most immediate attention. "Touch me," she begs pitifully. Carmilla's hand comes against her cheek. "Kiss me." 

 

Lips chastely press against her own. Laura shakes her head. 

 

"No?" Carmilla murmurs gleefully. Laura whimpers, twisting in her bindings. "How, then, pet?" 

 

"There," she whispers, softly. 

 

"Where?" 

_Everywhere,_ Laura thinks. She has no freedom of her hands, and she realizes Carmilla's genius in this at last. She cannot point, cannot back down, but must press through. "What do you want, Laura?" 

_Everything. You. Always._ But these answers are not sufficient, not for describing the depth of her need for the other woman, nor for satisfying the carnal desire which threatens to grow like a flame and consume her. 

 

"Please," she pleads, but she knows this to be unsatisfactory.

 

"Please, what?" A firm but gentle hand grasps at her chin and tilts it, and if she could make use of her eyes beyond the blindfold she knew she would meet Carmilla's raven stare, ravenous with the hunger to take what was hers. 

 

 "There," Laura repeats, her breath coming quicker now, her chest rising and falling. "I want you to kiss me, there." Her back arches to emphasize her point. Carmilla's hand touches her neck, slips down until it ups her breast. "There." Laura says it firmly now. 

 

"Here, pet?" Carmilla murmurs, her head already bowing. She captures Laura's nipple with the delicious, impossible heat of her mouth and begins to suck. Laura's body is alight with the sensation, her cries ringing into the night as she struggles now against the fabric, against everything that is not that mouth upon her flesh. The pleasure is so great from that simple touch that she feels as though surely it will consume her, burn her all away, and some part of her is so overwhelmed by the goodness of it that she strains to be away. She is conflicted, every nerve electric and bare, the raw pleasure seeping into her skin setting her body into overdrive. Laura cries out in the most beautiful pleasure, that tongue flickering over her nipple making her body writhe against the intensity of her want. And yet it is still not enough, Laura's gasps are still saturated with an unfulfilled need. Carmilla hears this, the quiet little gasps of, "Please, Carm," that arise from her lover's delicious mouth without even being consciously summoned. Her tongue trails the sensitive nub once more before her mouth slips off audibly, teasing her lips over the skin, knowing how already it is sensitized to her. 

 

"Do you want something, Laura?" And there is something about the other woman saying her name like that, holding it in her mouth like it is a precious gift, that makes Laura shudder, makes her feel all the more naked. She nods, the quick, harsh pace of her breathing betraying her, but she does not want to hide. She has crossed into the path of desire and belongs to its grasp, cannot be free from it until she has sated it, and been sated. 

"Please." It is her mantra, her mind forgets for a time how to say anything but that, words feel slow to draw together. It is all so good she wants for it never to stop, wants to know nothing but this, would die happy if it was to be suspended here in the fragile moments before Eden, before bliss. 

 

But those things are accessible to her now. She swallows, struggles forth from her overwhelming desire which is to her a deep lake through which she must wade. "Please. Fill me." 

 

Now it is Carmilla's turn to gasp, the words not lewd and somehow more so than if they had been obscenities. Laura's reward comes with a pressing of lips so close together, digits dipping down to her wetness, a single finger pressed just at the edge of her eager body, at the precipice of satisfaction. She realizes for a moment how she longs to see Carmilla's eyes, for she knows that they will be filled with a love which no other has looked upon her with before that moment. Lips kiss along her jaw, up to nibble at her lobe before words form in a heat against her ear. 

 

"Do you want this?" She has never wanted anything more. She nods like a woman possessed. "Inside?" 

 

"Plea-"

 

But the first letter had hardly formed upon her lips when she felt her body being opened delightfully, her lover's fingers - one, then two - slipping into the hot, wetness of her body. Laura cries in wanton delight, a single leg casting over Carmilla's back as she pulls the other woman closer. Carmilla's kisses proclaim their bond in shades of lavender and magenta as she fucks deeper into the other woman, filling Laura so perfectly, so completely. This, Laura has time to think before she slips back into her fog of ecstasy, was what she had been waiting for. This most natural moment, the perfection of their bodies, of feeling the other woman inside of her, moving in her body as no one had before. The feeling of being possessed by her totally. Carmilla's fingers worked against the fine song of her body, giving and taking with equal delight and vigor. Pleasure traveled up her toes, down her fingertips, pooling into her groin. Laura felt herself so close to unbecoming, felt certain she would see the cosmos for the godliness of this experience. 

 

"P-p-ple-" Words fail to come in anything other than a string of mismatched syllables and incomplete sounds, all thought and all cognitive power seems to leave her as she becomes possessed by the desire. A thumb sweeps across her clit, working circles against the sensitive nub. 

 

"Come," Carmilla offers to her, her voice soft and full of love. Laura hesitates, she is still not good at taking pleasure even when it is given freely. A kiss comes to her forehead, Carmilla's fingers crooking inside of her. "Come, Laura. Come." 

 

Laura's hips rocket upwards, her body clamps and clasps down against Carmilla, and she cries so beautifully that it becomes silent, deafening the whole of the world for a moment with that perfect bliss. Her hips rock uncontrolled, her faculties completely gone from her as pleasure, pure and undiluted, comes delivered to her every inch. Laura does not know how long she flies as such in that perfect height, only that when at last she comes down she can still feel the pleasure spasming through her body. Carmilla softly presses her thumb again to her clit and rolls her fingers inside of her against the spongy sensitivity of her g-spot, dipping her head down to softly kiss at Laura's wetness before she raises it again. The fingers slip away with Laura's soft whimper of disappointment, the emptiness washed away by the hands which ease her body into strong, familiar arms. Her bonds are not yet removed, and for this Laura finds herself grateful, for there is a safety in this moment as nothing else can be, trapped there but willingly. 

 

"Good girl," Carmilla praises, and Laura hears the genuine pride which fills the other woman's voice. Laura's body falls from the endorphin height, she feels the cold suddenly, acutely, and a shudder passes through her. But as it leaves her lips her body is wrapped, a press of a familiar blanket. Her bonds are altered, allowing her hands movement away from the board through they are still bound. The last impediment to satisfaction is removed, and Laura looks up through her lashes at Carmilla, her eyes rich and warm, and totally full of care. A tender thumb brushes against her cheek and Laura nuzzles into the other woman's body, comforted by the way that her lover holds her tight. "So good for me," Carmilla praises softly. 

 


End file.
